


The blind angel

by uzies_universe



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Blindness, Cherub Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Post-Apocalypse, Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), References to Norse Religion & Lore, Seraph Crowley (Good Omens), Sick Character, Wing Grooming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29461926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uzies_universe/pseuds/uzies_universe
Summary: When Aziraphale drives Crowley away with another rude remark his human acquaintances are there to tell him off. Distraught the angel tries to check on the demon surreptitiously with a dubious artefact and pays a high prize.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have the next chapter finished and four more mapped out so the rest of this should get up during the week.  
> I play a bit with norse mythology later on but don't expect anything MCU related from me.

A few weeks after the not-end of the world Aziraphale reopened his bookshop with a new layout. Gone were most of the dust and clutter and all his precious first editions were safely tucked away upstairs. A small demonic miracle had moved the staircase to behind a locked door in the back room to keep trespassers away. The shelves downstairs were filled with rare, but not too rare, books and were all for sale. This had been Crowley's idea and although the angel had his doubts it had turned out amazingly well. It also opened up the possibility to spend more time buying books, something Aziraphale loved dearly. Within a few months he had attracted a nice group of regulars and it had become easier to get hold of the books he really wanted when he was more known in the trade. His mood had also improved greatly as he hadn't needed to fight a customer over a book for months even if the shop was open more often. 

Finally Aziraphale had decided to host a small party at the bookshop to celebrate this new layout and invited his regulars and some other bookshop owners. This would never had occurred to him in the old shop but now there were small tables with nibbles and drinks throughout. Crowley was invited as well and tried to do his best to be polite. He could clearly see that it wasn't just the books that had attracted some of the regulars, it was the angel himself. He kept a particular eye on Mr Harris, Mr Evans and Ms Jones. He really didn't fancy sharing his angel, even if they had never explicitly talked about their relationship. Crowley dearly hoped there was one when Aziraphale had invited him back to the shop after their celebrations at the Ritz. If they were over, as stated at the bandstand, he wouldn't have wanted a demon around, right? He would have said something when he was visited almost every day and helped to remodel the entire bookshop too, right? 

As the party progressed he could see Mr Evans in particular circle around Aziraphale. He had drunk a fair bit of the wine and was starting to get a bit handsy. The angel himself seemed completely oblivious of the special attention and laughed with crinkly eyes at the insipid jokes the man kept telling him. Finally he couldn't hold his tongue any longer when he saw Mr Evans move from simply holding a hand on Aziraphale's arm to lay an arm around his shoulders on the couch. 

"Haven't you had a bit too much to drink? he asked testily as the man had stood up to refill his glass again. 

"There now, Crowley, be nice to Rob!" Aziraphale bristled right away and stood up to position himself protectively between the men.

"You hate it when people touch you, I was just trying to help." Crowley muttered while trying to stay calm when he learned that they were on first name basis now. 

"Well I don't need your help, thank you very much. I can handle myself far better than you can handle yourself or that overly fancy deathtrap of yours!" Aziraphale snapped back. 

Crowley just stared at him for a few seconds and then turned on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him. How dare that angel talk about his Bentley that way? Especially as he had puppy-eyed his way into being driven over half of England for just the estate sales alone on more than a dozen occasions in the last few months. 


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale stared after the speeding off car in a state of utmost surprise. What was wrong with Crowley? He and Rob had just had a lovely conversation over wine and he had plowed in as if it had been something dangerous. Sniffing haughtily he turned to the stunned guests. Rob came up immediately and put a comforting arm around him. 

"Don't worry, poppet, you're better off without him." Rob said with confidence and then kissed his temple. 

Aziraphale froze and couldn't even move as the kisses trailed down his cheek and jaw. Right before Rob could plant a kiss to his lips the shock broke. He pushed the man away with enough force to make him stumble back to the couch. 

"Don't be like that, poppet. Don't play coy now." Rob huffed and tried to get back up. 

"Whatever makes you think that I have any interest whatsoever to be... kissed... by you?" Aziraphale hissed. 

"Well, apart from flirting shamelessly with him the entire evening I have no idea." Ms Jones said tersely. 

"I get it why Mr Crowley got upset." Mr Harris added. "I thought you two were dating before tonight, but I guess you are just a flirt trying to get favours or something. I know how often he has driven you to my shop in Bristol over the last month alone." 

Aziraphale starred in renewed shock as the guests gathered their things and left, Rob included. They looked both sad and angry, particularly Rob, too. What had happened? Locking the door and cleaning up with a snap he sank down in his favourite chair and tried to analyze the situation. Had he been flirting with Rob? He didn't think so, he had just been polite, hadn't he? He had no interest in anyone but Crowley, even if he hadn't felt the time right to mention that yet. He had only realized that in 1941, they had all the time in the world and they had only been free for a few short months so far. No need to rush, right? With a grimace he expelled the alcohol he had drunk to see if that made things clearer. It did as he got a clear picture of just how much Rob had touched him tonight and shuddered retrospectively. Crowley had been right. Again. He had been so blind to the obvious. Yet again. What to do to mend this?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A not very graphic depiction of a sad wank in this one, just so you are warned. I couldn't find a proper tag for that...

Crowley was both furious and heartbroken when he parked outside his flat. Stupid, lovesick, always too fast demon! He swung out of the car and took the stairs three at a time up to his flat. Tossing his glasses and keys on a side table he made a beeline for his throne and sank down. What to do now? He'd probably blown his chances for the foreseeable future and for an immortal the future was a long one. 

After a few minutes of pointless fretting he grabbed his mister and went to check on his plants. Without the risk of visits from Hell he had eased off with the threats and was pleased to see that the plants kept up well. He couldn't help to bemoan his situation to them. 

"He won't call us friends," he began his rant. "But he still seems to want to keep seeing me. He hates the way I drive, but it's perfectly fine to go on rides with me if it's somewhere he wants to go. He claims to be able to handle himself, but whenever he's in trouble he goes full out damsel in distress or crank up the puppy eyes to make me do whatever he's too 'good' to do himself. I'm always to blame whenever things go wrong or some evil's afoot however far away from it I was. And if one of my plans goes wrong, he acts as if everything I've ever done since Eden has gone wrong. He always acts as if I can't do anything right and he has to shoot down any and every idea I've ever pitched to him until he's taken enough time to ponder it to realize that it's a good one. I mean, I had to beg and cajole for hours and hours before he even considered trying to help me stop Armageddon, not to mention the centuries it took him to accept the Arrangement! I'm always the bad demon and he's always the good angel unless he can call me 'nice' or 'kind', even if I've told him that Hell would rip me to shreds if they heard that. I still love him, but he's never mentioned he can feel it, even if he always claims that he feels other's love..." 

The plants rustled indignantly on his behalf. If they had become sentient enough to understand his threats before they were clearly sentient enough to understand his distress now. Stepping back after a last flourish with the mister over a particularly splendid snake plant Crowley got an idea. Maybe he should spoil himself a bit tonight? Take a hot bubble bath, perhaps groom his wings and then go to bed for a month long nap? It was positively ages since he'd done proper grooming and with winter coming on he could use some more stuffing for his comforter.

He undressed slowly in front of the mirror as the tub filled. He rarely liked to look at himself but he had put a full length mirror on the door to his wardrobe when it had come in fashion. There weren't many items in the wardrobe as he had always preferred to conjure up whatever he fancied. These last few months though he had bought a few outfits, including the one he had worn tonight, that hung there. Looking at himself he wrinkled his nose at his lanky and angular features. Up to the last century he had been seen as a poor and probably unsavoury character due to this. Only rich people could afford to be fat after all. The snake eyes had been a source of pride until the humans started to react badly to them. After that he mostly hid them behind whatever passed as fashionable dark glasses at the time. The fact that it was a constant reminder to Aziraphale what he was may have factored into that too. Dropping his watch off on the bedside table he walked into the bathroom and turned off the taps. With a content sigh he sank into the tub to let the hot water soothe both his tense muscles and his inner snake. With a quick snap Vivaldi started to drift softly through the air and he settled in to try and relax. Maybe he should take himself in hand too? It didn't look like he was going to see the angel again anytime soon and as Aziraphale was always so quick to point out he was both a wily old serpent and a demon, he might act like one for once.

Sinking lower in the tub he let his hands wander over his sharp angles. Would Aziraphale ever want to touch him like this? He knew the angel loved his earthly pleasures and had no doubt that sex was one of them. Thinking of that always made him jealous, just like Rob's handsy hands had done tonight. Maybe he would never know what it would feel like and it might even be that Rob found out how it was first hand right now. He himself had only had sex if forced to it by explicit orders from Hell. Gritting his teeth he called forth his favourite images of his angel. Taking that smile, that tone of voice, that crinkle of his eyes and those few times they had touched he had soon combined the perfect fantasy angel. His hand moved faster but still quite languidly in the water, no need to splash over the entire floor. Stroking himself he heard words of love and praise whispered in his mind as he soared towards his climax. When he finally shattered in pleasure he could not help but sigh out his love's name.

After a few moments the guilt became too great, he had no right to use his beloved angel as a sordid wank fantasy. Stepping out of the tub and snapping irritably he was dry and dressed in a pair of soft trousers. Time to take care of all those wings! He smirked half heartedly at what Aziraphale might think if he ever saw them. They had never really talked about Before and in Crowley's opinion it didn't matter who or what he had been then, that angel was gone. Sitting down on the thick bedroom rug he let all his wings out and set to work.


	4. Chapter 4

Back in the bookshop Aziraphale had tried to call both Crowley's mobile and landline without getting anything but the ansaphones. Fretting badly he began to pace to let off some energy without much success. He wanted to rush over to the flat and try to explain himself, maybe even apologize now that he knew better what he had done. Still he didn't want to intrude if the dear demon wanted to be left alone. The unanswered phones seemed to indicate that. If only it was someway to check in without going there! At the next turn in his pacing he glimpsed a movement in the corner of his eye and turned his head sharply. It was just a tiny mirror he had put up to check on one of the many nooks in the shop but it triggered a recollection. Hurriedly he walked over to what looked like a simple cupboard in the back room. Opening the door he stepped into one of his miraculous storage rooms. Half hidden behind some crates full of dusty old knick-knacks stood a rather small mirror wrapped in cloth he had confiscated almost a century earlier. It had belonged to a blind old woman in Glasgow and was said to be magical. He had sensed something and decided to take it and investigate it and the runes scrawled around it at a later date. Picking it up and uncovering what the old woman had said was a 'spyglass' he left the store room. What had her name been? He couldn't recall it, but he knew he had been there to bless her on direct orders from Heaven. Looking at it now with all of his senses he knew it was exactly what he needed. It was indeed a 'spyglass' and could be used to spy through other mirrors if you knew where they were. Carrying it to his desk he sat it down and focused on what he remembered from his only visit to Crowley's flat. There had been a mirror over the table just inside the door, one in the bathroom and one on the door to the wardrobe in the bedroom. He blushed a bit at the knowledge of the last one as he had sneaked a peek inside while Crowley took a shower. Now he just had to get this mirror to work. He extended his angelical senses again and despite some slightly demonic static in the connection he was rewarded with a perfectly clear image.

The first mirror he tried was the one in the hall. He was relieved to see that the car keys as well as the glasses were on the table. That meant that the demon probably was at home. Next he continued to the bathroom and was surprised at the sudden fogginess of the image. After a few moments of consideration he concluded that Crowley must be taking a hot bath as he heard faint splashing sounds. The sounds were very muted but he could clearly hear the splashing get more vigorous and then stop abruptly at the same time he heard Crowley sigh out his name. His face went beet red when he understood the implication. Apparently he wasn't alone in desiring his former opponent. There was a bit more watery sounds when the demon exited the tub and then silence apart from gurgles from the drains. As the fogginess lifted he could see movement in the small glimpse he got of the bedroom. It looked as if the demon was doing some sort of yoga dressed only in dark trousers. Switching to the bedroom mirror he clasped both hands over his mouth. He was indeed doing some sort of yoga, though not any sort a human would do. He was grooming his wings. Aziraphale watched in amazement as the demon twisted and turned to get to his wings to groom them. What amazed him the most was that it wasn't the single pair he would have expected. Crowley had three pairs of magnificent black wings! They had never really talked about Before the Fall and he had always assumed the demon had been a minor angel then. Of course they both knew that he himself had started out as a Cherub and been demoted to Principality when he was tasked to stay on Earth. He had just never expected that a Seraph would have accepted the menial position Crowley seemed to hold in Hell. The more he thought about it the more sense it made. A minor angel turned into a minor demon wouldn't have access to the powers Crowley had proven himself to have. Why had he never seen that connection? 

It took Crowley almost an hour to work through all sets of wings and then he finished off with a languorous stretch. Standing up he gathered all the loosened feathers and tucked them into the already quite down filled comforter for some reason. Finally he pulled off his trousers, slipped naked into bed and turned off the light with a snap. 

Aziraphale tried to shake himself back to his senses in the suddenly darkened bookshop when letters started to scribble themselves quickly across the now dark glass of the mirror. Puzzled he read as "I hope you found the show worth the prize!" manifested in Crowley's untidy scrawl. What prize? The next moment everything went black. He had gone blind! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last two chapters are almost done, I might get them up tonight but more likely tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

Crowley jumped out off bed as soon as he had sent the message to that stupid angel and hoped it wasn't too late. When the lights went out he had seen the flustered angel looking at him through the mirror and could tell by the runes glowing around his face that he somehow had gotten hold of a 'spyglass'. He had thought they had all been destroyed as they were far too dangerous to let humans get hold of them. Curse that norse 'god' and his twisted sense of humour! Hopefully Aziraphale, as he was an angel, wouldn't go permanently blind as a human would if they used it too long. He snapped himself into some clothes and then another snap brought him straight into the bookshop. 

Aziraphale was sitting whimpering in his chair with his face in his hands. The air had a faint angelic tint as if he had at least tried to heal himself, possibly without success, and that meant that he had used it long enough to go blind. He wondered just how long the angel had been spying on him, how much he had seen or heard and if it was actual blindness that explained why he was so distressed. When Crowley placed a hand on his shoulder he recoiled as if in fear until the demon started making soothing sounds, then he grabbed him in a tight embrace. The normally blue eyes had gone completely white.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Aziraphale whimpered over and over again. 

Crowley cursed inwardly as he tried to console the distraught angel. Not fancying spending all night kneeling on the floor he rose with Aziraphale still clinging to him and carried him to the couch. As the angel refused to let go this had the angel straddling his legs and crying desperately on his shoulder. After wrapping his arms around him he tentatively tried to search out the edges of the blindness with his demonic senses. It was soon clear that neither a direct angelic or demonic healing miracle would work here. This was a tricky curse with some sort of catch rather than something as straightforward as, say, just removing the optic nerves. He had met Loki a few times and knew he had been more into mischief than destruction, just like he himself. He wasn't really a god like God was, just a Duke of Hell that had set up shop in Scandinavia for a few years with some other demons over a millenia ago. He didn't know exactly what had happened to them in the end, he had only heard rumours that they had disappeared forever. How could Aziraphale have missed this curse when he used the mirror?

They sat together for the rest of the night and well beyond dawn. Eventually Aziraphale calmed down enough to disentangle himself and for Crowley to dare to leave him alone to quickly pop out for some freshly baked croissants and then brew some tea. Breakfast wasn't really necessary for angels and demons but it did seem to calm down Aziraphale even more and he relaxed further into his chair. His movements were still slow and he touched everything carefully before taking hold of it. This troubled Crowley as he knew that an angel has more eyes than the two of its corporation, he had some of those himself that still worked. If his other eyes were affected as well he would be truly blind. 

"How do you feel?" he asked carefully. 

"Like I deserve!" Aziraphale groaned.

"Ok, and how far does it extend?" 

"All my eyes are... are... blind!" 

Aziraphale burst into fresh tears and when Crowley touched his shoulder he once again had a lapful of angel with him on the couch. If the circumstances had been less dire this would have been a dream come true but now he only wanted to give comfort. 

"You know, he was called 'the merry prankster' by some. I guess you went blind because you used the mirror to see something you normally wouldn't have seen. Maybe you'll get your sight back if you show something to me that I normally wouldn't have seen. A payback of sorts, or maybe a rebalancing is a better word, and it will be undone?" he ventured tentatively after awhile. 

"But what?" Aziraphale asked wetly. 

"I don't know, maybe..." Crowley began when a knocking at the door interrupted him. 

"Hello?" a female voice called through the mailslot. "Mr Fell? It's Ms Jones, are you in? The lights are on. Mr Fell? I forgot my purse yesterday! Are you ok, Mr Fell?" 

"Oh, fiddlesticks!" Aziraphale moaned. "Could you be a dear and open for her?" 

"Are you sure? She'll wonder how you could have gone blind overnight if she sees you like this." Crowley asked in the same gentle tone he had used since he arrived. 

"Drat, I don't know... See if you can find her purse and just open the door long enough to hand it to her?" 

Crowley took a good look around but found nothing purselike. By then the knocking at the door had ceased only to start up right in front of the desk where Aziraphale sat. 

"There you are!" came the muffled voice of Ms Jones through the window. "Now be a dear and open the door!" 

"Crowley, let her in. She won't give up now." 

Crowley went to the door and opened it wide, it took a few moments for her to notice it. He was just about to call over her increasingly worried questioning when she saw him. 

"Mr Crowley!" she exclaimed happily as she hurried over. "You are a true sweetheart! After all that and still coming back to help clean up, aren't you a darling!" 

He looked puzzled at her and was too slow to stop her as she breezed by and went straight for Aziraphale. He did notice that she carried a purse though, and that it looked just like the one he now remembered her having last night. What was going on? 


	6. Chapter 6

Aziraphale heard the rapid footsteps over the floorboards but was too slow to turn away before Ms Jones stopped before him. He tried to look as if he wasn't completely blind and failed miserably. 

"Mr Fell? What's wrong? Why won't you look at me?" she asked. 

"Don't I?" he mumbled feebly and hoped that Crowley would come quickly to his rescue. 

"No! Is there something wrong with your eyes? Good Lord, there is! Your eyes are completely white! What happened?" 

He tried to compose himself to answer when she continued on. 

"I honestly didn't forget my purse you know. I just wanted an excuse for you to let me in. What I really needed was to tell you to do better by Mr Crowley in private as I'm positive he's just the best anyone can get. I see now that you already made up, right?" 

"Yes, I got myself into a spot of trouble and he was kind enough to come here..." 

"A good friend is a blessing from God, especially a dearheart like your Mr Crowley! Now, what has happened to you?" 

Aziraphale was still struggling to come up with a plausible explanation when he heard a snap and Ms Jones went blessedly silent. She really was a speed natterer! Now he had some time to think of what to say and then it was the embarrassing issue of being reminded of his own atrocious behaviour last night. After pondering a minute he went with the easy part first and put out a hand to find Ms Jones' still body. 

"There was no one here when you knocked so you decided to just go back home and forget about this." he said in a clear, commanding tone before snapping his fingers. 

Ms Jones walked silently out and closed the door behind her. Now he just had to address the true elephant in the room, his behaviour towards Crowley. Should he also add how he felt about him and had known for sure for almost eighty years? He thought back at what he had overheard through the mirror and then sifted quickly through their interactions over their six millenia on Earth. Crowley, a demon and fallen angel, had always been there to support him no matter what and that was far more than his brethren in Heaven ever had. He held out his hand and was rewarded with instantly feeling the comforting touch of the demon. Yes, he was an angel of the Lord and this feeling of comfort from a demon was really all the confirmation he needed. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and faced Crowley as best as he was able. 

"Crowley, dear. There is something I need to say to you and I would be grateful if you would let me say it without interruption. Ok?" 

"Ok." 

He took another deep breath and began. 

"First of all I must truly apologize for my utterly atrocious behaviour. Last night was just the latest, hopefully the last, in a long line of injustices I have done you. You have been my confidant, my support and most of all my friend since we met in Eden no matter how rude I have been. You have never failed me while I have failed you too many times to count. It is true that I am an angel and that you are a demon, but, we are also Aziraphale and Crowley. We have been stationed together on Earth for six millennia as the only representatives of our former sides to be here full time. I should have realized long ago that it made us equals and I should have treated you thusly. I should also have seen through the fear and pressure Heaven put on me and stood up for what was Right, not just what they claimed was right and what I don't believe the Almighty always agrees with. Furthermore I have a confession to make that is long overdue. I once told you that you go too fast for me. While it's true that you do go faster than me, it doesn't mean I go at any better speed. I have, if I'm honest, gone so slow that it has been more like moving backwards. I will endeavour to improve on this matter as well. In 1793 I had foolishly landed myself in a prison cell in Paris as you doubtlessly recall. That was the first time I acknowledged that it always gave me a nice feeling to see you. It took until a dark night in a bombed out church in 1941 for me to realize exactly what that feeling really was. But it took the loss of my sight to finally pick up the courage to share these realizations with you and it grieves me to not be able to look you properly in the eye while I do so. Crowley, as I've already stated you have been my confidant, my support and my friend. Now I wish to add another aspect to that list. You are also my love. Yes, I do love you dearly, even if my foolish old self couldn't force those words out of my mouth until now. I hope that I'm not wrong in assuming you do have similar feelings for me even if I can't detect love from you. But humans can't sense love like an angel can and yet they have seen enough signs from you to chastise me about it." 

After he finished his speech he held his breath and waited for a reply. He tried as hard as he could to imagine his dear demon's face so it took him a moment to realize that he actually saw it. Crowley was there, right in front of him, without those dratted glasses to cover his luminous eyes. His dear face was beaming with a glorious smile while tears were running down his cheeks. Had he ever seen him cry before? Then he saw those beautiful snake eyes widen in shock. 

"Your eyes are no longer white!" Crowley gasped. 

"And I can see!" 

They embraced again, even tighter than before, and this time he could feel it. Warm wisps of love swirled around the demon and then it poured out in a torrent to meet his own. 

"So I was right..." Crowley muttered some time later. 

"About what, dear boy?" 

"I've never seen you as open and vulnerable as this before so this must have reset the balance of what you saw in the mirror. I'm just glad I didn't go blind too! Still might though, you're glowing a fair bit right now..." 

"Ooops..." 

The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the last chapter, thank you for reading!
> 
> I'm not sure if I prefer to have every chapter done before posting, or doing it like this. I only had two chapters done, two as drafts and two only roughly sketched when I started posting. I have ten more stories roughly sketched out and over twenty plotbunnies jumping around. The way things are going there might be a lot more if the bunnies are left unattended....


End file.
